


Sweet Sacrifice – Georgie during the 27 Years

by h311agay



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Briefly angsty, Inspired by Fanfiction, Mostly Fluff, Sweet Sacrifice by drindalis, The Turtle CAN Help Us (IT)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h311agay/pseuds/h311agay
Summary: From the Summary of Sweet Sacrifice: "The Turtle used the last of its power to revive the three people who matter most to the Loser's Club, activating upon It's physical demise; Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak, and Georgie Denbrough."Summary of this story: The Turtle holds onto Georgie Denbrough for 27 years, keeping him from being lost eternally in the Deadlights.
Relationships: Georgie Denbrough & The Losers Club
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	1. Georgie Meets The Turtle

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sweet Sacrifice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12850881) by [Drindalis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drindalis/pseuds/Drindalis). 



> Chapters are expected to be relatively short, seven chapters total. Minor trigger warning for brief description of major injury (i.e., Georgie's arm).
> 
> Also, the author of Sweet Sacrifice, Drindalis, says they purposefully left the timeline ambiguous so the readers could supplement whichever they liked best, but that they personally view their fic taking place during 1990, like the miniseries. So, this fic reflects that, because that's also how I'd been reading it.

He was floating, detached from reality, without feeling, without thought. It was warm, but not warm, cold, but not cold… pleasant. George Denbrough decided that the clown in the sewer must have been onto something; floating was nice.

Slowly, Georgie came to the realisation that he could  _ realise _ again, and the floating sensation slowly began to drift away, like tendrils of ribbon slowly fluttering up into the air, dissolving into ash, scattered by the current of the breeze. He opened his eyes, and he did not see, but he saw, in his mind, a never ending cavern of white above him, an absence of all things, yet within it, the knowledge of all things. There was no above, or below, left or right, there only  _ was _ .

He turned his head to the side, blinking slowly as he looked at the… 

_ / _ Hello, Georgie. _ / _

“Hi,” he squeaked out, blinking again as he realised he was looking at an eye, wizened with age, and twinkling with kindness, and so incredibly large that Georgie had to turn his head up to see the top of it. He sat up, but there was no ground beneath him, rubbing his hands on his arms to chase away a chill he couldn't actually feel. 

_ / _ I'm sure you're very confused right now. Do you want to tell me what you last remember? _ / _

Georgie scrunched his face up in thought, before standing and taking a few steps back and looking carefully at the being in front of him. "It was raining and Billy was sick. He made me a boat, but I lost it – her, I lost her. Boats are 'possed to be called 'she', Billy said so."

_ / _ Billy sounds very smart. _ / _

George felt a sense that the being was almost amused by what he had said, but what made him feel that way was unnamed. An innate sense of understanding. The being hadn't even spoke, truthfully, yet Georgie could hear it. Understand it. "Are you… a turtle?" Georgie felt the being chuckle.

_ / _ This is the form I take that is most to the understanding of your mind. My true form is simply incomprehensible to you. So, yes, I am a turtle. A very old turtle. I made your universe, but I didn't mean to. I had a tummy ache, and threw it all up. _ / _

"I didn't know turtles could throw up."

_ / _ Have you ever spoken to a turtle before? _ / _

"No," Georgie admitted sheepishly. "Well, at least not to one who spoke back."

_ / _ So, do you remember anything else besides your brother and your boat? _ / _

Georgie was quiet for a moment, looking carefully at the mosaic of the turtle's massive shell, trying to crane his neck to see the top of it, but unsuccessful. He'd have to run further away from the turtle in order to see all of it, and he understood that he was already very far away from the being despite how close it's massive size suggested. Something told him to go no further from it than he already was. "I remember a clown in the drain," he said after a while, frowning as he looked back at the eye. "He said there was popcorn. And he had my boat, but he wouldn't give it back without being weird and… I reached in for it…" he shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He sucked in a wet breath as pain soared through his shoulder, and in fear he glanced down at his right arm, expecting to see it missing, a bloodied stump, oozing in its place.

Instead, he saw it fully intact, covered by his yellow raincoat. He looked down at his hand and wiggled his fingers, letting out a sigh of relief when they moved. "Am I dead?" He asked, voice small and scared. "Did the clown–" he gagged, cutting himself off, the fear of being dead so palpable and icy in his veins that his subconscious wouldn't even let him entertain the idea.

_ / _ I am sorry, _ /  _ said the turtle, sympathetic and sincere.  _ / _ But I have plans for you. It is not your time, child. I can keep you safe from It, until you are needed again. _/ _

"C-can't you bring me back?" His stutter on the first word made him think of his big brother, and tears welled up into his eyes. "I miss my brother. I wanna go home. Can't I go home?"

_ / _ I will do my best to make this feel like Home. Do you trust me? _ / _

Georgie was quiet, fighting back whimpers, because he wasn't a baby. Bill didn't treat him like a baby. He was six now, and six year olds were big and brave. He couldn't stop the quivering of his lip, but he managed to not cry. "Will Billy be there?"

_ / _ Of course, Georgie. I wouldn't have it any other way. _ / _

"Okay then. I guess I trust you." He hesitated when the urge to walk closer went through him. "I… you won't be like the clown, will you?"

_ / _ I will bring you no harm. You will not know of the clown in this Home. _ / _

With the words came a sense of warmth, security, and Georgie began to walk, on ground that did not exist, on ground that was made of nothing and everything. The walk took a lifetime, an eternity, and happened in the blink of an eye. Georgie reached up and placed his hands on one of the massive scales of the turtle's face. An intense rush, like a storm's breeze, wracked Georgie's bones from the inside, and he felt himself siphoned away. As the cavernous white slipped from Georgie's senses, he heard the turtle speak once more.

_ / _ When it is done, when the Seven have killed It, I will return you to your true Home. _ / _

And then, it was dark.


	2. Billy Boy & The Storm

October 1962

Georgie awoke with a start as a low rumbling of thunder began to taper off. His heart was beating madly in his chest, and he glanced around the dim, grey light of his room, surveying the bookshelf with his colourful books and a few small Lego constructions he had made with his dad. His big brown eyes widened when they flitted to his pile of stuffed animals, momentarily seeing a looming figure behind them, but the fear was quickly replaced with relief when he realised it was just the way his night light was casting shadows. He sighed and kicked his blankets off, pressing his face against the foggy and condensation covered window beside his bed and peered out into their yard.

Outside was grey and heavy with clouds, and rain was coming down in heavy sheets; the streets were overflowing with strong currents, water cascading over the sidewalks and over top of the drains. He grinned and hopped off his bed, gasping slightly when his foot landed on something soft and fuzzy. He jumped back some and looked down, only to laugh at himself when he saw it was a turtle plush must have been knocked loose from the pile. He picked it up and gave it a gentle hug, a strange feeling of warmth crossing through him briefly, and he felt like he had to thank it for some reason. He held the turtle out at arm’s length before giving a decided nod. “Thank you, Maturin. That’s your name now, Maturin.” He pulled the blankets back on his bed some and proceeded to tuck Maturin into his bed. “You just go ahead and make yourself comfor’ble,” he said, patting the stuffed animal on its head, before bounding out of his room and into the kitchen.

“Moooooom,” he called out, pausing when he didn’t find her making breakfast, and he frowned, wondering if he was up too early. He glanced at the clock over the stove and squinted, trying to understand what the lines meant, but not knowing what VI or VII meant. He sighed and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Moooooom?” He called out again as he made his way back over to the stairs. He squawked and jumped away when someone rounded the corner suddenly.

“Oh! Sorry, Georgie. You’re awake early,” she said, stooping down to kiss him on the top of his head. “The school’s flooded, so no school for you.”

He gasped in joy, clapping his hands excitedly. “No school!” He jumped up and down, giggling brightly. “No school! No school!”

His mother smiled down at him fondly and ruffled his hair. “Go wake Billy, I’ll make you pancakes.”

“With chocolate chips?” He asked, batting his eyes and clasping his hands in front of him. “Pleeeeeaaase?”

She laughed and nudged him toward the stairs, “Yes, with chocolate chips. Now, go, get Billy.”

He scrambled up the stairs on all fours, and crawled over to Billy’s door before pulling himself up by the doorknob. “Billy! Wake up!” He swung the door open and bounded over to his brother’s bed. Bill mumbled something under his breath and blinked sleep-heavy eyes at Georgie. “Billy, we got no school today!” He beamed up at Billy, sticking his tongue out some between the mismatched teeth in the front of his mouth, a gap on the bottom from where he had lost a tooth the week before. He’d gotten two quarters for it and used them to buy a spinning top from the machine at the grocery store.

“If wuh-we got n-n-no s-s-s-school, wuh-why’d y-y-you wuh-w-wake me up?”

“Mom’s makin’ chocolate chip pancakes, Billy!”

Billy was quiet for a second before smiling softly at Georgie, “Y-y-y-you kn-kn-know wuh-what? Th-th-thanks f-fuh-for wuh-w-waking m-me up, Juh-Georgie.” Georgie leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Billy’s neck before kissing him on the cheek. “G-G-Gross!” Billy laughed as he gently pushed him away. “Yuh-y-y-you’re g-g-gonna gi-give me c-c-cooties!”

“I don’t have cooties, Bill,” Georgie said firmly, but he dropped his arms from Bill’s neck. “Only _babies_ have cooties, and I’m _not_ a baby. I’m six.”

Bill nodded in agreement gravely, “Uh-Uh-Of c-c-course, Juh-Juh-Georgie.” He threw the blankets off of his legs and let out a scratchy cough. “L-L-Let’s guh-guh-go eat.”

Together they ate breakfast as the storm raged outside, chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs doused in a healthy portion of syrup. When their mom wasn’t looking, Bill grabbed the syrup and dumped just a little bit more onto both of their plates. He smiled and winked at Georgie before pressing his finger to his lip. Georgie beamed and mimed zipping his mouth shut, and Bill placed the syrup back onto the table just as their father entered the dining room.

“Morning, boys,” he said with a yawn. “Bright and early but no school, huh?” He walked over to the coffee carafe and kissed their mom on the cheek. “Morning, Share,” he said.

“Good morning, honey,” she said. “Georgie was awake at six-thirty,” she said. “Told him I’d make him some pancakes for breakfast. Figured we could set them up in the living room and let them watch some movies.”

Georgie thumped his feet against the legs of his chair in excitement. “Movies! Yay!”

“And I figured we could try and see if any of Bill’s friends wanted to come over?”

Georgie gasped and turned to look at Billy, catching him as he coughed into his elbow. “Oh, Billy! Could you ask Richie to come over! He always does funny voices, I like him! Please, oh, please can Richie come over? Mommy?”

Bill shook his head slightly, “I d-duh-duh-dunno,” he said weakly. “I k-k-kind of f-f-fuh-fuh-fuh…” he trailed off with a frustrated look, cheeks red. He coughed into his elbow again, and the cough was like a rattle. Their mother frowned and walked over to Bill, placing the back of her hand to Billy’s forehead.

“You’re not very warm, but that could change,” she said. “Alright, just you two, then. Don’t want to get the whole neighbourhood sick now.” Under her breath, but still loud enough that Georgie’s small ears caught it, she said, “Sonia would have a conniption if Eddie caught a bug.”

Zack Denbrough nodded along, and Georgie didn’t know what a conniption was, but it didn’t sound very good to him. He sighed in defeat, “But I wanted to see Richie.”

“Duh-Duh-Don’t w-w-wuh-worry. Juh-Juh-Just y-y-you and m-m-me w-wuh-will b-be f-f-fun t-too,” Billy said with a small sniff. 

The next day, it was still storming just as heavily, the school was still flooded and meteorologists were unable to agree on a potential end to this storm. Experts were beginning to predict that this storm may lead to a flood worse than the flood of ‘61. Georgie didn’t understand how damaging that would be, he was just excited to get to witness so much rain, so much water. Their basement, with it’s dirt floors, was beginning to show signs of flooding as well, despite the fact they were just the slightest bit uphill. Zack was muttering to himself as he started to move more sensitive items out of the basement. He was taking a break, eating a sandwich in the kitchen when Bill told him to go grab some wax to seal the paper boat he had folded up with the _good_ paper, the sturdy paper.

“In the basement?” He asked with a small gulp.

“D-Do yuh-you wuh-want her t-to f-f-float?” He said, before sneezing a couple of times in a row. Billy sniffed, but Georgie heard the phlegm lodge itself in Bill’s throat, and Bill began to cough violently into his elbow.

“Yeah, I guess,” Georgie said, hesitating before heading down to the cellar. He flicked the lightswitch and the single bulb in the center of the room came to life briefly before crackling and fizzling out. 

He gulped but steeled himself and made his way down the wooden stairs, heart pounding rapidly in his ears. He found a flashlight and lifted the bulky thing up, pressing with both thumbs to turn on the light. Relief flooded him when the dim yellow light came to life and almost immediately illuminated the can of wax he’d been sent to gather. He lifted it up into one hand, and tried to turn the flashlight off, when something in the corner caught his eye.

He dropped the wax and whirled around to shine the light on it, imagination supplying him with the image of a clown, too tall, with razor sharp teeth and yellow eyes, but he found nothing but an old mop head and rake resting along the wall. He sighed and grabbed the wax again before finally shutting off the light. “There’s no monsters, silly,” he said as he reached the stairs, but that fear overtook him once more and he bounded up the steps, slamming the door hurriedly behind him. He took a deep breath as he pressed his back against the door, trying to calm down. “Maturin will keep you safe,” he said.

“What was that?” His dad said as he turned the corner.

“Oh, uh, I hope this is the right wax,” Georgie said, holding it out to his dad. “Billy needs it for his boat.”

“Oh, is Bill making you a paper boat?” Zack took the wax and looked it over carefully for a moment.

“Uh-huh!” Georgie said, nodding his head. “We need the wax so she floats!”

Zack ruffled Georgie’s hair before returning the can. “You going to take her out today? The rain seems a little heavy still.”

“Maybe,” Georgie said. “Billy can’t go outside right now, can he? ‘Cause he’s sick?”

Zack nodded, “Yeah, buddy, Billy’s sick. He probably shouldn’t be going out in the rain, just like we can’t have his friends over. Don’t want to make things worse.”

Georgie bit his lip in thought before giving a decisive nod. “Okay, Daddy. I’m gonna go take the wax to Billy now. Love you!” He heard his father call out to him as he bounded away and back up to Billy’s room. “Billy, Billy! I got the wax!”

He watched as Bill carefully coated the whole boat in the wax, and then held it gently by the ends to dry. When he was done, he handed the boat over to Georgie. “N-n-now b-be c-c-caref-fuh-ful, Juh-Juh-Georgie.” Georgie opened his mouth to speak, but Billy was still trying to get words out, and Georgie knew how difficult it was sometimes for Billy, so he clamped his mouth shut and waited patiently for Billy to finish. “L-L-Look fuh-fuh-for c-cars and d-d-don’t w-w-wuh-wuh—” He faltered, a frustrated look crossing his face.

“It’s okay, Billy, I’m listening, don’t worry!” He sat up straighter and beamed up at his brother, holding onto the S.S. Georgie gently but firmly.

Billy chuckled slightly, still looking stressed by the way his words had failed him. “Y-y-yeah. Duh-duh-don’t wuh-wuh-worry i-i-if yuh-you l-l-l-lose her, oh-okay? I c-c-can ah-ah-always m-m-muh-muh-make you a n-n-new one.”

“But you can’t make a new me,” Georgie said somberly, and Billy nodded his head, tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. “It’s okay, Billy. I want to take her out with you, and since you’re sick, you can’t go outside right now. I’ll wait until you can come, too!”

“Are y-y-yuh-you sh-sh-shu-sure?”

“Yep!” He said, beaming. “It wouldn’t be the same without you anyway!” Billy ruffled Georgie’s hair before yawning. “I’ll let you rest. Rest is good for when you’re sick. I can just play with Maturin.”

“M-M-Muh-Muh–”

“Maturin! That’s what I named my turtle! The one Richie won for me at the bowling alley, ‘member?”

Billy nodded, “H-h-h-have fuh-fuh-fun.”

It was two more days before Billy was healthy enough to go outside with Georgie. The sun was out, but rain still fell down onto the town of Derry with a vengeance. Georgie was squealing with excitement and joy as he and Billy ran through the streets, chasing after the S.S. Georgie as she made her way through the channels of water. Georgie stumbled at one point, as the boat continued on down the street. He scrambled back to his feet and cried out as the boat neared the drain faster and faster, but his little legs couldn’t carry him quickly enough to reach it in time.

Just as he thought it was going to slip into the sewers of Derry, Bill was there, scooping her up out of the water.

“Sh-sh-she’s suh-suh-safe!” He called out, grinning wide enough to match Georgie’s own smile.


	3. Richie, Eddie & Stan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for my nerds out there

November 1962

“Ah say, Ah say, ma good suh!” Georgie giggled as Richie Tozier barreled through the Denbrough’s living room to scoop Eddie Kaspbrak up into his arms, planting exaggerated kisses onto the side of his head. “Been ages since Ah’ve seen yah, an’ lookit yah! Gone an’ gotten old on me, Ah say. A tragedy!”

“Put me the fuck–”

“Edward,  _ language _ ,” Stan said with a hiss, shooting Eddie a glare. “Georgie’s here.”

“Yeah, numbnuts,” Richie said as he released Eddie.

“ _ Richard _ ,” Stan said, aghast. Georgie giggled as Richie crossed the room and pulled him into a hug by his neck, gently dragging his knuckles across Georgie’s head.

“Georgie,” Richie crooned, “How are you little man?”

“Good!” Georgie grunted as he tried to pull himself from Richie’s headlock. “I named my turtle finally!”

“The one from the bowling alley? Did you name him after the most charming and good looking person you know?” He released Georgie and fluttered his eyelashes while Stan and Eddie both mock gagged.

“No,” Georgie said, oblivious to the subtle teasing Richie was facing from his friends. “I named him Maturin!”

“Mater Rin?”

Georgie snorted, “No, silly,  _ Maturin _ .”

“That’s a unique name for a turtle,” Stan said softly. “A good name, though. I like it.” Georgie beamed up at the quietest of Billy’s friends before bounding off into his room to grab Maturin. When he returned, Bill had already set out the map for the game the boys were about to play. The three of them had come over to play Dungeons & Dragons and to celebrate Eddie’s birthday, which had been earlier in the month, but they hadn’t had time to all gather and hang out until now.

Georgie took a seat to Bill’s left, putting him on Richie’s right. On Bill’s right was Stan, and between Stan and Richie was Eddie. Georgie set Maturin between him and Richie, and Richie smiled faintly as he reached up and gently stroked the head of the plush turtle.

“Oh-oh-okay, g-g-guys, I puh-puh-puh-promised Juh-Juh-Georgie h-he c-c-could puh-play wi-with us.”

“What? But he’s six,” Richie argued and Georgie shot him a scowl before scooting closer to Bill and tugging Maturin away. Richie looked down at him apologetically. “I just mean, D&D is hard enough for  _ us _ . He won’t understand what’s happening.”

“I wuh-wuh-walked him th-th-through a ch-ch-charact-t-ter sh-sh-sheet. And ah-ah-obviously he’s n-n-not g-g-gonna underst-st-st-stand ev-everyth-thing b-b-but–”

“I already told Bill I’d help Georgie make decisions, and walk him through how to keep track of his inventory. Which means Georgie should come sit next to me, anyways.” Georgie harrumphed at Richie before scooping himself and Maturin up off the ground and making his way between Stan and Bill.

“Maturin, too?” Richie asked with a pout, making Eddie snort before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “What?” He asked defensively.

Eddie shook his head, laughing into his knuckles, “You’re just,” he inhaled sharply as he giggled more. “Such a big baby, Richie.”

The game was, admittedly to Georgie, boring, but he liked when Bill stopped to describe the scene to them, or to read off lore, or when he was playing an NPC. Sometimes, for certain characters, he’d hand off a sheet of paper to Richie and have him make up voices and speak for the people they were meeting. As the evening wore on, and the game continued, Richie’s voices got more and more ridiculous, making Georgie – and sometimes Eddie – dissolve into a fit of giggles.

At one point, Richie pulled off a voice that sounded suspiciously like Officer Nell, and it made not only Georgie and Eddie laugh, but Stan and Bill as well. They all laughed until they were laying on their backs, wheezing and snorting, tears streaming down the sides of their faces. Georgie reached up and wiped away tears that had fallen into his ears. He sat up, wiping his face, as the others began to do so as well. “I th-th-think th-that’s eno-nuh-nough f-for tonight,” Bill said, still trying to catch his breath. “Yuh-Yuh-You’re g-gonna g-give Eh-Eh-Eh–”

“I hate when you stutter on my name, Bill,” Eddie said, wiping at his own face. “You sound like Elmer Fudd.”

“Porky Pig,” Richie corrected. “Elmer Fudd can’t say his R’s. Porky Pig is the one with a stutter.”

“Whatever,” Eddie said waving his hand, “The point still stands.”

“Suh-suh-sorry,” Bill said sheepishly, looking down as he carefully folded their map back up. Stan was helping him gather up the rest of the D&D materials.

“No, Bill, I didn’t mean it like that, fuck–”

“Language,” Stan said, making Georgie giggle.

“Shit, sorry, I mean, shit, fuck.” Eddie cringed as Richie lost his composure and let out a honking and loud laugh. “Sorry, Georgie,” he said between grit teeth. Georgie couldn’t help but laugh loudly alongside Richie. 

Georgie was only able to calm down when Stan grabbed his attention, because Eddie had turned on Richie and was speaking quickly, but quietly, a furious expression on his face. Richie was doubled over, saying “Oh my god, oh my god,” over and over, shaking his head every time he tried to look up at Eddie.

“Georgie, do you have your character sheet?”

Georgie blinked to attention before looking down at the paper in his hands. He held it out to Stan. “I had lotsa fun, Stan, thank you for helping me!”

Stan smiled softly at him, taking the paper and running his thumbs over the creases Georgie had made from holding it. “I really like your character, Georgie. Did you make him up yourself?”

Georgie nodded his head, “Billy said he’d try to draw him for me!”

“Oh, what does he look like?”

“A turtle!” Georgie said gleefully, and Stan hummed in affirmation.

“I kind of guessed that. You named him Maturin. Like your stuffed turtle there. Where’d you learn that name?”

Georgie paused, humming in thought to himself. “I dunno,” he said finally, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I guess I just thought it up by myself.”

“Well, Georgie, I just wanted to let you know that I think Maturin is a really great name for your turtle. Something’s just… right about it.”

Georgie threw his arms around Stan’s shoulders, and he felt him stiffen under his touch at first, before tentatively returning a gentle hug. “Thanks, Stan. You’re really cool and nice. I like when you come over to hang out. Richie’s funny, but you’re always super nice.”

“Hey, what about me?” Eddie said from across the room. Georgie pulled from Stan, but didn’t entirely let go of him, and turned to face the other kid. “Richie’s funny, ha, and Stan’s nice, also  _ ha _ , what about me?” He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Georgie with a scowl that always made Georgie want to laugh. 

“You’re funny looking,” he said honestly, laughing at the way Eddie’s jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. Eddie sputtered as Richie let out a painful sounding snort before laughing so hard he was turning red and silent except for the occasional desperate gasp for breath. 

Bill began to stutter out Georgie’s name in surprise, but he was also laughing at Eddie’s expression, so he wasn’t able to get much more than a breathless “Juh” out. This only proceeded to make Richie laugh harder, wheezing out “Holy shit,” at one point.

Stan couldn’t even scold him, because he was busy holding his hands over his mouth as he turned pink, shoulders shaking from laughter. He was shaking his head and periodically squeezing his eyes shut. Georgie didn’t understand why they were all laughing so hard, but their laughter was contagious, and he joined in as well, hands over his belly and head thrown back as joyous squeals left him. Eddie eventually joined in as well, covering his face entirely.

He eventually wheezed out, “If  _ I’m _ funny-looking, then Richie doesn’t even have a  _ chance _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never personally played D&D but my friends and I are getting a campaign set up and I'm hella excited, D&D is right up my alley tbh. 
> 
> Also, uh, anyone wanna hear more about Georgie's D&D character because I'll gladly spew out some shit just because I love character building lmao (also, might throw the character concept to my DM to see if they'll incorporate him as an NPC bc like, that'd be dope).


End file.
